


Do I Wanna Know? (Arctic Monkeys)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Charlie Ships It, Conspiracy, Disco Fries, Drinking, Drinking Games, Harvelle's Roadhouse, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pool, Sam Ships It, They're sooooo good!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: Rock You Like a HurricanePart two





	Do I Wanna Know? (Arctic Monkeys)

**Author's Note:**

> *Maniacal laughing*
> 
> That is all.

Do I Wanna Know? (Arctic Monkeys)

            “Are you serious?” Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair, but the movement was fuzzed slightly due to the crappy dorm room wi-fi.  His grin was unmistakable, though, if a little pixelated.

 

            “Completely serious.  I need your help.  Please, Sam!  You’re the only one who can do this!” Charlie widened her eyes and tried to look as repentant as possible.  Sam just looked at her, head tilted slightly, as if trying to figure out if she was fucking with him.

 

            He finally snapped out of it and shook his head, “Well, I don’t know what you think I can do.  He never listens to me.  And I don’t exactly have the money to fly out there, anyway.  College student, remember?”

 

            Charlie rolled her eyes, “Use the Bobby-ticket!”

 

            “The Bobby-ticket is for _emergencies_ only!  What if I used it for this and then something happened to one of you next week and I had no way of getting home?!” Sam spread his big hands as his volume rose.

 

            “But this _is_ an emergency!” Charlie cried.

 

            “My brother’s stupidity _is not_ an emergency, Charlie,” Sam yelled, bitch face in full force.

 

            “Alright, alright, let me think,” Charlie sighed and started nipping at her thumb nail.  She jumped up as an idea occurred to her and ran away from her laptop.  She could hear Sam’s confused calls of ‘Charlie?’ as she rooted around in her desk for something.  “Where the frak is that…Ah-ha!  Bingo!”

 

            Charlie sat heavily back down in front of her laptop, startling Sam.  She waved a blue credit card at the camera and grinned evilly, “Elementary, my dear Watson!”

 

            “Charlie, you can’t afford the tickets,” Sam sighed.

 

            “Airline miles, my good man, airline miles.  Enough to get you out here today and fly you back tomorrow,” she giggled.

 

            “How do you have airline miles, Charlie? You never go anywhere,” Sam asked skeptically.

 

            “And that’s how I have 30,000 miles,” Charlie outright laughed.

 

            “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Sam said, shaking his head, “You do realize he’ll kill us if he ever finds out?”

 

            “Never! He loves us too much.  And besides, he won’t find out because it’s gonna work this time.  I’m gonna book it and email you the ticket info.  I’ll see ya at the airport, Samwise,” Charlie laughed at Sam’s look of consternation as she closed the Skype window.

 

 

 

            Dean was completely engrossed in the inner workings of the piece of shit Chrysler that a man named Nick, whom he was internally referring to as ‘Lucifer’, had dropped off last Thursday, singing merrily along with Miley Cyrus (because ‘Can’t Be Tamed’ just _spoke_ to him on a deep, personal level) when his heart stopped beating.

 

            Dean’s cardiac arrest was incited by hearing his brother’s voice loudly proclaiming, “Oh, this is _so_ your theme song!” directly behind him.  Said brother supposedly living over a thousand miles away in California prompted Dean’s heart to cease all function for approximately 0.3 seconds before slamming back into motion just a Dean’s head slammed against the underside of the hood of Satan’s Chariot.

 

            “ ** _SONUVABITCH!!!_** ” Dean screamed, twisting around, right hand rubbing the top of his head.  His mouth dropped open at the sight of Sam standing not three feet away, duffle bag in hand, smiling that shit-eating grin of his.  “Oh my God, Sammy,” Dean whispered before launching himself at his overgrown baby brother and almost tackling him to the dirty garage floor, forcing an ‘Umph’ of surprise from Sam.

 

            Dean pulled back, shaking Sam by his big shoulders, “What the fuck, Sam?! What are doing here?”

 

            “Surprise?” Sam laughed, bending over to pick up the bag he’d dropped when Dean went full-on spider monkey.

 

            “Holy shit, man! I just…I-I can’t believe you’re, like, really here! Jesus, Sam!” Dean punched Sam not-so-gently on the shoulder, “You gave me a frikkin’ heart attack, man!” he laughed shakily, taking the sting out of the punch.

 

            “Yeah well,” Sam smacked Dean’s arm in retaliation, “it’s not every day my older brother gets un-hitched.  Thought I’d come out and help you celebrate your newfound freedom.”

 

            “Yeah, but, Sammy, how…where’d you, get the money?” Dean asked, still smiling so hard his face was starting to hurt worse than his head.

 

            Sam shrugged noncommittedly, “Friend donated their airline miles,” he muttered.

 

            “Wow, that’s a Hell of a friend ya got there, Sammy!”  Dean grabbed a shop rag to clean off the worst of the grime from his hands.  “Wait, how’d you get here from the airport?”

 

            Sam started up the stairs of the apartment where they’d both grown up, so he didn’t have to look at Dean while he lied to him, “Uber.”

 

            Dean shrugged, “Huh, okay, cool,” and followed Sam eagerly upstairs to unlock the door for him.  “What’d you wanna do tonight? Bowling? Shooting range?” Dean asked as he unlocked the door.

 

            Sam walked straight into their childhood bedroom and threw his bag on his old bed, “I was thinking the Roadhouse,” he called out to his brother.

 

            Dean’s face fell as he came into the bedroom doorway, but he quickly schooled it into a mocking smirk, “You missed greasy bar food and watered-down booze that much?”

 

            Sam laughed as he turned back to Dean, “I’m telling Ellen you said that!”

 

            “You better not!” Dean yelled as he tackled Sam to bed, hands formed into claws to start tickling Sam’s sides.

 

            He only got a few licks in before Sam was thrashing away and trying to pin Dean to the bed with his gargantuan arms, screaming ‘Stop, Dean!’.  Dean laughed and jerked in Sam’s grip, rolling them back and forth on the bed as they fought for dominance.  Laughing and growling, they soon toppled off the bed and onto the floor, Sam’s knee landing sharply in the middle of Dean’s back.

 

            “Ow, bitch!” Dean wheezed as Sam stood up, brushing his long hair out of his face and panting.

 

            “You started it, jerk,” Sam smiled, flipping Dean over easily and grabbing his hands to pull him up.

 

            Dean bent over, rubbing his knee where it had thunked into the floor boards, “Fuck it, fine, whatever.”  He hobbled out of the room, throwing back, “But you’re buyin’, College Boy!” as he headed for the bathroom to get cleaned up.

 

           

 

“Stop limping, ya big baby.  You’re fine,” Sam scolded as Dean rounded the pool table, scoping out his next shot.

 

“My frikkin knee _hurts_ , ya giant freak!” Dean countered, bending down with the cue, intent on sinking the 8-ball and securing his title against a truly rusty Sam quickly so they could finally go order some food.

 

Sam laughed and started ribbing Dean about what a broken-down old man he was becoming, but Dean barely heard it.  As he was lining up his shot, movement at the door caught his eye, the very familiar movement of a dirty tan trench coat.

 

“Shit,” he muttered, muscle memory taking the shot for him.

 

“Oh, shit! Did you really just scratch that?” Sam laughed, pounding Dean on the back as he bent down to retrieve the cue ball. 

 

Dean stood in shock, watching Cas talk to Jo at the bar.  They both turned to look straight at Dean as Jo pointed him out.  “Fuck!” Dean muttered, ducking behind the pool table, his hurt knee slamming into the concrete floor painfully.

 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Sam asked, standing up from where he’d been lining up his shot on the side of the table.

 

Dean crouched behind the pool table, hoping against hope Cas hadn’t spotted him, but he knew it was a lost cause.  A pair of highly polished dress shoes came into view, topped by perfectly pressed dark blue pantlegs.  Dean sighed and turned over to sit on his butt, back against the pool table because his knee really did hurt and his little attempt at hiding hadn’t done it any favors.  He looked up the line of Cas’ body to see the man looking down at him with a very confused look on his face, head tilted to the side.

 

“Dean, what are you doing on the floor?” Cas asked.

 

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Sam added helpfully as he came around the table to look at his brother.

 

Dean ran a hand through his hair in frustration and rubbed the back of his neck to dispel the blush that he could feel heating up his whole body.  “Hey, Cas,” he smiled shyly.

 

Cas’ face smoothed out and he broke into a small, secret smile, “Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean looked over at Sam’s flummoxed face and reached out his hand, which Sam took automatically and pulled him up.  Sam was spending too much time picking Dean up off the floor and he’d only been back a few hours.  “Sam, Cas.  Cas, Sam.” Dean said pointing back and forth between the two men.

 

Sam smiled and stuck out his hand, “Hi, nice to meet you.  I’m Dean’s-“

 

“It is not of import,” Cas dismissed Sam and turned back to Dean, “We need to talk.”

 

“Rude,” Sam muttered at the same time Dean laughed joylessly.

 

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Cas.  I don’t want to talk to you.  I want to enjoy Sam’s company and get something to eat and then we’re going home.  Come on, Sam,” Dean brushed past Cas who was now staring daggers at Sam.

 

Dean signaled to Jo as he slid into a booth, Sam sitting across from him.  Ellen and Cas arrived at the booth simultaneously.

 

“What’ll you boys have?” Ellen asked just as Cas said, “Dean, we do need to talk.”

 

Ellen looked at Cas disdainfully, then back at Dean as Sam stood back up. “I’ll, uh, come on Ellen, let’s get caught up…um, over by the bar,” Sam said, wrapping an arm around Ellen’s shoulders and turning her away.

 

“ _Sam_!” Dean hissed, but Sam and Ellen just walked away quickly as Cas took Sam’s place in the booth.  Dean glared at the table top, but he could feel Cas’ eyes on him like a physical touch.  “So, talk,” he growled.   

 

Cas cleared his throat, “I am sorry to interrupt your _date,_ but-“

 

“Woah, let me just stop you right there, buddy!” Dean held up a hand and finally met Cas’ gaze.  “Sam is my _brother_ , not my _date_ ,” Dean said loudly.  The relief on Cas’ face opened up a pit of guilt in Dean’s stomach.  Dean shook his head and sighed, “Not that you would really care if I _were_ on a date.”

 

“I care,” Cas blurted out then ducked his blushing face, unable to meet Dean’s quizzical face.

 

“Why?  Why would you care?” Dean laughed bitterly.  “I mean, it was _just_ a hookup, right?” Dean lowered his face, trying to capture Cas’ eyes, “Right?”

 

Cas grumbled something to himself.  Dean sighed again and got up from the table only to push in next to Cas, forcing him to scoot over.  Cas looked over at him hopefully before letting his head droop again.

 

“You wanna say that a little louder, for the class?” Dean asked, bumping his shoulder on Cas’.

 

“I said, it wasn’t _just_ a ‘hookup’ for me,” Cas said softly, using air quotes.  “I don’t do ‘hookups’.  I just…”

 

“Just what, Cas?” Dean prompted when Cas trailed off, staring into Dean’s eyes.

 

“I did not want to sleep with you, but I could not stop myself,” Cas muttered, still with the staring.

 

Dean’s eyes widened, and his body tightened up, “You didn’t want to sleep with me?” His eyes narrowed as he jabbed a finger at Cas, “I am not some pity fuck, buddy! Ya know what? Fuck you anyway!” Dean started to stand up from the table, incensed.

 

“Wait!” Cas grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him back into the bench seat, “Wait, I am sorry!  That is not…that is not what I meant.  Please just hear me out, Dean.”

 

Dean snorted but stayed put as Cas continued, “I am not very good at this, Dean.  My ‘people skills’ are ‘rusty’.” “No shit,” Dean mumbled. “But I, I felt something for you, while we were here at the bar.  You listened to me and I got the feeling you _heard_ me. Do you see?”

 

Dean considered the man before him for a moment, the wide blue eyes, pleading for understanding, before answering solemnly, “Yeah, Cas, I see.”

 

“But the longer we sat together, the closer you got, I could not stop picturing you…” a bright blush lit Cas’ face, “Anyway, I felt a pull toward you, something I have never felt for another person, not ever,” Cas sighed and finally looked away from Dean.  “I have never felt anything like what I feel for you and I just, it frightened me.  We had _just_ met!  I thought, I-I thought if I…got it out of my system, got _you_ out of my system, that it would go away.”

 

“Why would you want it to go away?” Dean asked, genuinely shocked, “Dude, last night, here, was the best hour I’d had in…I don’t even know how long!  Well, until we went to your place, that was…God, I don’t even have the words for what that was,” now Dean was blushing, “But my point is, I felt it, too, that, what? Connection, I guess?  And let me tell you, Cas, Dean Winchester does not _do_ feelings!”

 

“You have feelings for me?” Cas squeaked.

 

“Well, uh, yeah, ya know, mostly, like sexy, um, feelings, but maybe, uh, like some others, too,” Dean stammered.

 

“Then why did you leave like that?” Cas’ eyes had turned stormy.

 

“Well, ya know, you gave me that look!” Dean exclaimed.

 

“What look?” Now Cas was back to confused.  This conversation was giving him whiplash.

 

“That get-out-I’m-done-with-you look!” Dean said, hands waving in front of his face.

 

“I gave you no such look!” Cas said indignantly.  Dean scoffed and opened his mouth to argue but Cas cut him off, “I did not want you to leave, Dean.  I am just not very good at expressing my true feelings.  I have been told numerous times that I am ‘too cold’ or a ‘damned robot’.”

 

Dean laughed, “Yeah, you gotta stop using air quotes, man.  That’s just, that’s just too weird.”

 

Cas blushed again but clasped his hands in his lap, “I-I wanted so badly for you to stay, Dean, truly.  I suppose my mind was not quite back online yet and you seemed so determined to leave.  You were so dismissive, I thought you must not have felt the same as I did.  So, I, I just let you go,” Cas whispered the last part, looking at his hands and trying not to give away the fact that he was on the verge of tears.

 

Dean sat back and rubbed a hand down his face, sighing heavily, “Jesus.”  He turned back to Cas and took his hand under the table, rubbing his thumb across soft knuckles.  “We’re both a coupla idiots, aren’t we?”

 

Cas let loose a watery little laugh, “Yes, I suppose we are.”

 

“Hey, can we just start over?” Dean asked quietly.

 

“I would like that immensely,” Cas beamed up at Dean, his blue eyes shining.

 

“Well, come on, then,” Dean stood and tugged Cas out of the booth, “Let me introduce you to Sammy.  But don’t call him Sammy, he hates that,” Dean instructed as he led Cas over to another booth where Sam had taken up residence with Jo while she was on her break.

 

“Hey, Sam, this is Cas-“ Dean turned back to Cas, “I just realized I don’t know your last name,” he whispered.

 

“Castiel Novak,” Cas stated, holding his hand out around Dean for Sam to shake.

 

“Sam Winchester,” Sam laughed, shaking Cas’ hand. Dean shrugged and made his what-are-ya-gonna-do face at Jo, who looked highly amused.

 

“Uh, Cas, this is our kind of unofficial little sister, Johanna Beth Harvelle,” Dean smirked at Jo.

 

Jo stood and gathered her empty plate, “Pleased to meetcha, Cas,” she said as she shook his hand then brushed past Dean hard enough to push him away from Cas a few feet.  “Good luck with this asshole,” she threw back over her shoulder as she walked back to the bar.

 

Dean laughed and scooted into the seat opposite Sam, making room for Cas to fit in beside him.

 

“You order some food?” Dean asked, stealing Sam’s beer.

 

Sam grabbed his beer back before Dean could get a drink, “Yes, jerk! And I got us a pitcher, too,” he said petulantly as Jo strolled up with said pitcher and three glasses.

 

“I’ll be back with your disco fries and wings,” she said as she bent over way too close to Cas’ face for Dean’s comfort.

 

Cas looked decidedly uncomfortable as Sam laughed and Dean glared daggers at Jo and her cleavage, which just made Sam laugh harder.

 

Cas leaned over and whispered to Dean, “Your family is very, um, friendly.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean growled, “super-friendly.  Shut it, Sam!” Dean slapped a hand at Sam as he was trying to pour some beer in his glass.

 

“Hey, jerk! You almost made me spill it!” Sam laughed.

 

“Bitch,” Dean grumbled.

 

“You two really are brothers,” Cas smiled.

 

            For the next three hours, the three men demolished the food Sam had ordered, with minimal complaining on Sam’s part about Dean’s table manners, or lack thereof; played four rounds of pool, during which Cas surprised both brothers and soundly trounced them each in turn; and played no less than three drinking games invented by the Winchesters on the spot.  Dean was thrilled at the way Cas was interacting with Sam.  His brother was the most important person in Dean’s life and the fact that he and Cas were already so chummy was making his heart do _things._  Cas just seemed to _fit_ , slotting into the dynamic Dean and Sam had been building their whole lives.  By 11:30, Dean was leaned back comfortably in the booth, basking in the happiness of watching his brother and Cas regale each other with tales of their childhoods with older brothers.

 

Sam finally sighed after a long-winded laugh and looked at Dean, still smiling, “Well, man, I think I’m gonna hit it.”

 

“What? Come on, Sammy! Stay and hang out with us!” Dean pleaded without an ounce of sincerity.

 

“Uh, yeah, no.  Long flight in the morning, ya know?  Cas, it was a real pleasure to meet you and, although I think you’re so entirely out of my brother’s league, I’m glad you don’t know it,” Sam laughed as he unfolded his long frame from under the table and stood to shake Cas’ hand.

 

Dean curled protectively around Cas and faux-whispered in his ear, “Don’t listen to him, Cas, he’s just insanely jealous.”  Cas laughed and leaned his head back on Dean’s shoulder, giving his stubbly jaw a peck of chapped lips.  Dean leaned his head against Cas’ and beamed up at Sam, “I think he likes me.”

 

Sam scoffed, “Yeah, little bit. See ya in the morning?” he asked Dean.

 

Dean and Cas looked at each other and a huge, gummy grin spread across Cas’ mouth as he looked back at Sam, “Maybe.”

 

Dean’s big brother instincts kicked in at the thought of Sam standing around in the morning, waiting for Dean to give him a lift to the airport, “Unless you need a ride?” he asked, pulling away from Cas slightly.

 

“No, no, that’s cool!” Sam smiled down at his brother and his…boyfriend (?), “I’ll, uh, I’ll see if Charlie’s around to give me a ride tomorrow, no worries, like, at all.”  He started backing away toward the bar, to say good-bye to Jo and Ellen.

 

“Good to see ya, bitch!” Dean called as Sam turned to hug Ellen.

 

“Good to see you, too, jerk!” Sam hollered back as he sauntered out the door, tapping away at his phone, presumably arranging an Uber.

 

Cas sat up and cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shy.  Dean huffed a laugh and pulled him back up against his chest.  “You’re not getting away that easy, buddy,” he growled into Cas’ ear.  He could feel the shiver that worked its way through Cas’ body and his breath caught in his throat.  He pulled Cas even closer, up onto his bent leg that was resting on the bench seat, so that Cas’ ass was pressing against his growing erection.  “You see what you do to me, Cas,” Dean whispered, laving his tongue up the length of Cas’ neck exposed by their awkward position.  Cas groaned out what Dean could only assume was an affirmative.  Dean smirked against Cas’ skin, “What are we gonna do about this?”

 

“ _Dean,”_ Cas hissed out a warning.  Abruptly, Cas practically leapt out of Dean’s lap and turned, panting, hair completely askew, eyes wide and lust-blown.  He propped one knee on the seat and leaned over until his face was mere inches from Dean, who had started to scoot out of the booth.  “I want you to fuck me,” he stated matter-of-factly, like he was reading off a grocery list and, _goddamn,_ that should not be as hot as it was.

 

“Yeah, okay, Cas.  We can do that,” Dean breathed, eyes locked on Cas’ soft, pink lips.

 

Cas’ face broke out in that gummy grin again as he hauled Dean out of the booth by both hands.

 

 

 

Crashing through the front door of Cas’ apartment did nothing to dampen the fire in Dean.  Every stroke of Cas’ tongue, every nip of his sharp teeth, every rasp of his dark stubble, every clench of his hands as they fought with Dean’s clothes to get to his skin, it was all ramping up the heat suffusing his body, until he thought he might actually go up in flames.  Shoes kicked off, leather jacket and trench coat sloppily slung off broad shoulders, stumbling steps down a mostly-dark hallway, these were all just flashes on the periphery of Dean’s world, which had narrowed down to the grunts and gasps he could draw out of Cas.  His favorite so far had been the deep, rolling rumble that so closely resembled a purr which poured out of Cas’ chest where it was pressed to Dean’s when he pushed Cas’ jaw up and over in order to suck a bruise into the skin below the man’s ear.  When Dean then worked his wet mouth up to Cas’ ear lobe, sucking and nibbling, Cas had rammed Dean up against the wall in the hall way, sending a few framed pictures tumbling to the floor, and crashed their mouths together, tongue delving and thrusting so deep into Dean’s mouth, he lost any ability to focus on anything other than the obscene feeling of Cas practically fucking his mouth.

 

Cas suddenly pulled back enough so they could both draw a breath which hadn’t just been exhaled from the other’s lungs.  They panted shallowly as Dean stared into Cas’ eyes in the meager light.  “ _Cas,_ ” Dean breathed.  He’d never felt so completely consumed by the need to be as close as physically possible to another person.  It was like an ache deep in his soul to _not_ be touching Cas.  He was so lost to the feeling, he didn’t even care that he didn’t care, as long as Cas kept touching him, kept looking at him like he was the only source of light in a dark world.  Nothing else mattered.  Jesus, he was so fucked up over this guy and only after _two days_.

 

Cas turned away abruptly, and Dean felt a whine start to rise in his throat, but then Cas was pulling him down the hall by his hand, leading him to the infamous bedroom, where Cas had changed his world just the night before.

 

 Cas dropped Dean’s hand and immediately started pushing Dean’s flannel off his shoulders. Dean shimmied out of it until it fell to the floor then went to work on the buttons of Cas’ dress shirt, finally pulling it open and sliding it down his arms just as Cas unbuckled Dean’s belt.  Dean popped Cas’ belt open and quickly undid the clasp holding his slacks together, letting the whole works slide down Cas’ thick thighs to puddle on the floor.  Cas whisked Dean’s t shirt over his head when his trembling hands were defeated by the button of Dean’s jeans.  Dean smirked at Cas while he popped the button one-handed, snicking the zipper down and pushing his jeans off.  Cas huffed a little laugh and started to pull at his tie, but Dean batted his hand away.  Stepping away from his pile of clothes, Dean folded Cas’ face in his hands.  He brushed his lips softly along the line of Cas’ jaw and whispered, “Leave it,” before capturing Cas’ mouth in an aggressive kiss that promised so much.  Cas whimpered into Dean’s mouth as his hands scrambled for purchase along the smooth muscles of Dean’s back.

 

Dean walked them both toward the bed, pushing Cas down gently when he felt the man’s legs hit the edge.  Cas gasped in a breath as he bounced slightly on the bed and Dean gave him the same little hand flip to indicate he should move up the bed that he’d given Dean the night before.  Cas smirked but complied happily.  Dean quickly toed off his socks and, facing Cas and taking a deep breath, he shucked his briefs and kicked them away.  Cas licked his lips and pushed his own boxers down and off his legs as Dean sauntered up to the bed, his knees dipping the mattress.  Dean reached over and opened the nightstand drawer when Cas nodded in answer to the silent question he posed by looking pointedly at his dick then the nightstand.  He found the lube and a box of Magnums and his lips drew down in a frown.

 

“You got anything for non-porn sized dicks?” he asked Cas with a smile.

 

Cas rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh, “Under the box.”

 

Dean tried to maintain his cocky façade as he climbed up between Cas’ outstretched legs, condom and lube in hand, but Cas saw right through him.

 

“Hey,” Cas whispered, sitting up to cup Dean’s face in one hand while stroking his cock in the other, “you have nothing to worry about.  Your dick is perfect and beautiful.”  He kissed Dean wet and dirty to prove his point while thumbing over the head of his dick, “And so sexy, I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” he growled.

 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathed out as Cas lay back against the pillows again.

 

“That is the general idea,” Cas smiled.

 

Dean dropped the condom and lube next to Cas’ hip and bent over to run his tongue along that delectable jawline, eliciting a groan of pleasure from Cas as the man seemed to melt into the bed.  Dean’s right hand roamed every inch of skin he could reach while he stayed propped up on his left.  Cas tried arching his body into Dean, but he just pulled back slightly with a ‘tsk’ of displeasure and pushed Cas back down before working his mouth across Cas’ clavicle and down his chest, sucking and licking at each nipple in turn.  Cas was a writhing mess as Dean began trailing his tongue down Cas’ fluttering stomach, humming as he reached the cut hipbones he’d felt pounding into his ass the night before.  Cas was getting impatient as Dean paid homage to his hips, sucking multiple dark marks into the thin skin stretched tight over bone.  Cas whined and started whispering little pleas that had Dean’s dick jumping.  Cas felt a shuddering breath across his hard and leaking cock right before the wet heat of Dean’s perfect mouth settled over the head, his tongue flicking across the slit.  Dean moaned around the explosion of salty-bitter precum and all but dove down, taking Cas’ huge dick as far down his throat as he could, gagging involuntarily and pulling back up quickly with a muttered ‘sorry’.  Cas ran a hand through Dean’s honey-brown locks and spread his legs wider. 

 

Dean got the hint and scrambled to coat a couple fingers in lube, rubbing them together to try to warm them a bit.  He prepped Cas as quickly as he dared, basking in the trembling sighs and huffed breaths of impatience that turned into moans.  Watching the glory of Cas as he slowly fell apart at his hands, Dean soon had four fingers as far inside the man below him as he could manage.  His own breathing had dissolved into panting by the time Cas was begging for Dean to ‘ _just fuck me already_ ’.   Dean chuckled breathlessly while he rolled the condom down his cock, pushed Cas’ thighs up and apart, and lined his covered dick up with Cas’ stretched hole.  Squeezing the head of his dick past the first ring of muscle, Dean paused to try to collect himself or this was gonna be over long before he wanted.  Cas wasn’t having any of it and dug his heels into Dean’s ass, pulling him forward and burying his cock up to the hilt in one smooth stroke.  Both men groaned, and Dean tipped his forehead down to rest on Cas’, lost in the hot-tight-slick feel of the man.

 

 “Move,” Cas growled, startling Dean out of his trance.  Dean smiled down at Cas’ flushed face, brushing a lock of sweaty hair off his forehead, and pulled almost all the way out before plunging back in and grinding his cock inside Cas by rolling his hips.  Cas threw his head back, mouth open in a silent scream.

 

“Yeah, fuck yeah, Cas,” Dean got busy fucking him in earnest, alternating deep, long strokes with more of the grinding roll of his hips, keeping up a litany of filthy encouragement that made Cas’ eyes spark with defiance.  Dean got the feeling Cas was _daring_ him to come first but no way in Hell was he giving in that easy.  Putting most of his weight onto his left arm, Dean reached down between their sweating stomachs and stroked Cas’ cock, spreading the copious amount of precum that had drooled out along his length.

 

“Mmm, damn this is a nice cock…fuck, Cas, so pretty…can’t keep my hands off it…wish I could suck you off while I fuck you,” Dean grinned triumphant while Cas squirmed under him, simultaneously thrusting up into Dean’s tight fist and pushing back onto his dick.  Cas was down to abortive grunts and mewls in lieu of outright begging, but Dean was fine with that, using the other man’s noises as a guide to when to increase the pace of his hand or the power behind his thrusts until Cas was a total mess.

 

“ _Fuck, Dean, please_!” Cas wailed, his hands slipping up to Dean’s shoulders and gripping hard enough to leave bruises.

 

“Please what, sweetheart?” Dean smirked.

 

“Gotta come, Dean!  Please, please…ungh, fuck, gotta…please let me…make me come, Dean, please!” Cas babbled, his head thrashing back and forth as he lost his mind under the dual sensations of Dean’s cock and his hand.

 

“Hmm, yeah, baby, fuck yeah,” Dean mumbled, tightening his grip and stripping Cas’ purpled dick at the same time he sped up his thrust, pounding directly into Cas’ prostate.  “Fuck…ing…come…now…come, baby…fucking…do it _now_!”  Dean growled.

 

Cas _screamed,_ his body locking up as his back arched and he pulsed hard around Dean’s dick.  Dean barely even registered his own climax as he gawped at the indescribable image of Cas, his back entirely off the bed, his dick pumping and twitching in Dean’s hand, his chest flushed a deep red and glistening with sweat, and _Jesus Christ_ , the sounds he was making, damn near inhuman.  Dean wanted to close his eyes and ride out his own orgasm, but he just couldn’t stop watching Cas as the long, drawn out climax racked his body. 

 

Cas finally collapsed, his stomach, chest, even his chin, striped in pearly strings of come.  He smiled dopily at Dean and promptly passed out.  Dean huffed a laugh and lowered Cas’ legs to the bed as he pulled his softening dick out of his slick hole.  Dean sat back and marveled at the debauched picture Cas made before shaking his head with a smile and going into the bathroom for a wet washcloth to clean up with.  He rinsed the cloth out and brought it back to clean Cas up, tucking him under the covers when he was done.  Dean stood next to the bed for a moment, trying very hard not to wax poetic internally as he watched Cas sleep.  All the hectic color had left his cheeks, but his lips were still glossy and dark, his head a disheveled mess, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.  He just looked so perfect, Dean couldn’t help the way his heart swelled as a warmth spread through it.

 

He was jolted from his revelry by the sound of buzzing coming from the pile of clothes by the bedroom door.  Sighing, he bent to fish out his phone, assuming it was Sam asking if he was okay.  Dean swiped a thumb across the screen and opened the text notification mindlessly. 

 

**From: Charlene Bradbury**

_So? Did it work?_

            Dean was already typing out his response of ‘Did what work?’ before he registered the name.  Charlie was saved as ‘Queen of Moons’ in his phone.  Dean stared another full minute at the screen before he realized that _this wasn’t his phone_.  Why was Charlie in Cas’ phone?  They didn’t even know each other!  Oh shit, _they know each other_! Dean thought.  His stomach leapt into his throat and his heart beat nearly out of his chest.  He felt a hot blush creep up his back and over his neck as embarrassment suffused him.  They knew each other!  His hands shook as he erased what he’d typed.  Dean took a deep breath and tried to decide what to do with this information, specifically that his best friend was conspiring with Cas for, what?  Why would she do this?  Why not just set him up with Cas like a normal person?  Why the deception?  Was he that much of an asshole that she didn’t feel like she could suggest a date without him shooting the idea down? Was this some kind of joke?  He felt betrayed and not a little ashamed that she felt the need to go to these lengths to set him up.  Oh, fucking A, was Sam in on this?  His own brother?  The brother he’d sacrificed for, practically raised the little asshole?  Dean scowled down at the phone as it buzzed again.

 

**From: Charlene Bradbury**

_Castiel? U better answer me!_

            ‘Oh, I’ll give you an answer,’ Dean thought as he typed out a response, waited for a reply, typed again, and dropped the phone.  Dean picked through the pile of clothes, gathering his own and putting them on quickly.  He glanced back at Cas, still sleeping off the most amazing sex Dean had ever had the privilege to play a part in, before turning his back and heading to the front door.  Dean tried not to slam the door on his way out, but did not have the same courtesy once he’d made it out to the street.  He stalked back to the Roadhouse and slumped into his car.  Rage was finally taking over the embarrassment of a few moments ago.  Dean screamed and slapped the steering wheel repeatedly.  He finally ran out of steam, his heart twisting painfully in his chest and he laid his forehead on the steering wheel with a heavy sigh.  After a few minutes, Dean turned the key in the ignition and pointed his Baby toward home, utterly defeated as to what to do.

 

 

 

            Cas whined and stretched sore muscles, reaching out for the warmth of another body in the soft light of his bedside lamp.  When his hand only encountered cold sheets, he cracked an eye open, looking for Dean.  He sat up, the covers pooling in his lap.

 

            “Dean?” he called.  No answer meant the man had left. Again.  With an exasperated sigh, Cas swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, grinning stupidly at the literal pain in his ass that was Dean Winchester.  Cas stumbled over to his clothes, rooting around for his phone, which, for some reason, was lying on top of his pants instead of in the pocket.

 

            Cas woke the screen and thumbed it open.  Instead of his home screen, the phone was open to his texts with Charlie.  Scrolling up, he read the most recent thread.

 

**From: Charlene Bradbury**

_So? Did it work?_

**From: Charlene Bradbury**

_Castiel? U better answer me!_

**From: You**

_Castiel isn’t available right now_

**From: Charlene Bradbury**

_Fine I’ll bite.  Who is this?_

**From: You**

_Your former best friend_

**From: Charlene Bradbury**

_Dean?! Wait, I can totally explain!_

**From: You**

_Goodbye, Charlie_

            Cas groaned and didn’t bother reading the increasingly frantic texts from Charlie.  He thumbed the call symbol instead.

 

            “ _Dean, listen I-“_ Charlie cried in Cas’ ear.

 

            “He’s gone, Charlie,” Cas sighed.

 

            _“Oh my God, Cas! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened! I was just checking in with you to see how it went and-“_

 

            “It’s my fault.  I left my phone unlocked and fell asleep.”

 

            _“No,_ ” Charlie sighed, “ _it’s my fault.  I should have just set you two up on a regular date instead of this cockamamie scheme.  I’m an idiot and now Dean hates us both.”_

“You may as well give me his number, since he already knows we know each other.  I’ll call him and see if I can fix this. Again.”

_“I’m so sorry, Cas.”_ His phone buzzed in his hand with a text from Charlie.

            “I’ll see you Monday at work.”

_“Let me know if you make any headway.”_

            “Yes, of course.  Good night, Charlie,” Cas said, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and index finger.  Cas hung up with Charlie and saved Dean’s number to his phone before dialing it and walking over to his bed as he listened to it ring over and over.  Same thing with the second and third attempts, all dumping to voice mail without Dean picking up.  Cas sighed and began typing out a text.

**From: You**

_This is Castiel.  When you are ready to listen, please call me.  You should know that Charlie had only the best of intentions.  I do not want this situation to be the end of your friendship with her.  She loves you.  I do not want this to be the end of us, either, but I will understand if you never want to talk to me again.  Just know that everything I told you about my feelings was the truth.  You are already very special to me, Dean. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me and give us a real chance at happiness._

            Dean sat on his bed, listening to his brother’s attempts to suck the curtains in through his nose in the other bedroom, and read the text from Cas.  Cas had caught him in a rare emotionally-open moment.  He’d just been sitting here, stalled, brain working over everything he knew about Cas, Charlie, Cas and Charlie, Cas and him, and everything in between.  He’d even been compiling all the reasons he could think of to stay angry at the two of them versus all the reasons not to and he was coming up woefully short on the ‘angry’ side.  It wasn’t the first time Charlie had tricked him into something that he had ended up being thoroughly happy about.  LARPing being the most memorable of those.  Because of her, he’d just met an amazing person who he seemed to have an almost instant connection with, not to mention the fact that he’d had more mind-blowing sex in the past two days than he’d had in the past two years.  And Cas just, well, his was a lie of omission but, then again, Dean hadn’t exactly asked either of them if they knew each other.  He hadn’t even paid attention at the bar Friday night.  They could have acknowledged each other right in front of him and he wouldn’t have noticed enough to ask about it.  No, he wasn’t even really angry at them, more like mildly peeved.  He was perplexed as to why Charlie hadn’t just _asked_ him if he was willing to go out with Cas, but then again, he hadn’t been a shining example of his old, outgoing self this last year.  She probably (rightly) assumed he would say no and refuse to even consider it.

 

            That being said, they still lied to him, tricked him, and pulled Sam into the whole mess, even if he was spectacularly happy with the end result.  They had to pay.  Dean started typing.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first real attempt at some emotional angst and I'm turning it into a prank war. What the eff is wrong with me?
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me from showing up on the hood of your car naked and covered in bees.
> 
> Just sayin'.


End file.
